Broken wings - a Jeanmarco fanfic
by TurtleHugger7
Summary: Jean Kirstein is an average high school student. Average grades, normal friendship group, not many run-ins with the principal. At least, he was before. Marco Bodt is a new student at Trost High. When he meets Jean for the first time, it's memorable - but for all the wrong reasons. I suck at writing blurbs xD Just read to find out what happens before I make it sound any more crappy.
1. Chapter 1

**Part one - The brown of his eyes**

 **Jean's P.O.V:**

 _School. 6 hours a day, 5 days a week of glorious education._ My eyes rolled compulsively. _Yeah, right. When has education ever been anything but a pain in my ass?_

 _Damn this sucks._ The teacher, Ms Zoë, raved manically at the front of the class, explaining the fascinating lifecycle of some shrub while I tried to write down notes on how many fucks I didn't give.

The end of my pencil snapped, the sharp point ripping a whole in my paper. I glared at it. _You little shit._ I heard a muffled snort of laughter from the desk next to me and swung my withering stare onto the person sat laughing at my misfortune. _Connie._

 _What?_ I mouthed. _You think this is funny?_

He nodded vigorously, picking up his pencil and glaring at it with a constipated expression before looking at me again.

"Listen here, you balding ass." My voice was no louder than a hiss as I threatened him playfully, scowling half-seriously. "You better shut up before I come over there and make you." I fought back the smile that lurked at the corner of my mouth, holding in a snigger as he held a hand to his chest and pulled a shocked expression.

"You wish you could have hair this fabulous, Jean. But let me tell you - you couldn't pull off all this." Connie fluttered his hands around himself, pulling an expression that was probably meant to look pouty but actually made him look like a constipated trout.

Fluttering my hands around myself in a mockery of Connie's frantic gesticulations, I quickly flipped up my middle fingers. "Guess it's a good thing I don't want to look like 'all that' then, isn't it?"

"Aw shut up man, you know all the ladies can't get enough of me." Connie bragged, yelping quietly when the girl behind him pinched his ear rather aggressively.

Her brown eyes flashed mischievously as she leant over her desk to whisper in his ear. "And which ladies are you referring to exactly when you say 'all' the ladies? Have you been up to anything I should know about, Connie?"

He shook his head wildly, hazel eyes wide. "Nope, no, no - I swear. You're the only woman for me, Sasha. I was just trying to make a point to Jean here, that's all." Sasha grinned at me from behind Connie, giggling when he visibly relaxed as she sat back in her chair.

"Whipped." I coughed under my breath, earning a dirty look from my follicularly challenged friend and a snort from Sasha, who clamped a hand over her mouth as if to take the sound back. I cringed as the lecture from the front of the room fell silent.

 _Aw, crap_. I hung my head and turned to face the front, knowing that like always, I would be the one blamed for it. Sure enough, Ms Zoë's eyes met mine as I looked up sheepishly from my desk. Her messy brown hair stuck out from the back of her head, straining to break free of the loose ponytail it was confined within, it's dishevelled appearance matching her ditsy mental state and teaching style. That's not to say that she was stupid or anything, because she certainly wasn't that. Just... less than organised to say the least.

"Disrupting again, Kirstein?" She trilled, head cocked to the side like a curious puppy.

"No, ma'am. Just sorting out a little disagreement, that's all." I said smoothly, slouching back against my chair and shoving my hands deep into my hoodie with a practiced nonchalant air. On the inside I was actually kicking myself, and Sasha, for getting me into this mess, but I couldn't show that. _Teachers prey on weakness,_ I told myself. _Stay strong, Jean. You can do this._

A small smile raised Ms Zoë's mouth as if she realised my internal struggle. _Maybe she'll let me get away with it? Maybe, just this once, she'll carry on with the lesson and not try and embarrass me in front of the class._ "And what disagreement was this?" She asked, eyes gleaming from behind her glasses sadistically. _Should 'a known better than to hope, Jean. You should know by now that hoping never gets you anywhere._

I folded my arms across my chest and sighed. "If you must know, Connie and Sasha were having a practice marital dispute and I, like the good Samaritan I am, decided to step in and sort it out." I raised an eyebrow and looked at Ms Zoë before continuing. "Seeing as it isn't my relationship and these matters are usually kept private, I don't think that explaining what the dispute was about would be socially correct in this circumstance."

Ms Zoë nodded her head slowly. "Touché." She murmured before turning back to the board. I slumped into my chair, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. "But next time, Jean, stay out of other people's relationships and perhaps focus on either getting your own or having a good education."

The tips of my ears burned as other members of the class sniggered before stopping when they met my righteously pissed off glare. My pockets bunched up as I clenched the worn material in tight fists, a scowl setting my face.

 _Like I want a relationship. Like I need anyone_. My jaw clenched tightly as I remembered the stench of alcohol and the bitter taste of unspoken words, the empty chair at the table and the soft sound of my mother sobbing at night. _I don't want that, and I sure as hell don't need it._

My chair screeched as I pushed back from my desk, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder before storming towards the door. Connie and Sasha looked at me with wide, worried eyes as I stalked past them but I looked away, a snarl twisting my lips.

"Jean!" Ms Zoë called.

I span on my heel, one shoulder strap of my bag clenched in my fist. "In the politest way possible, Miss, fuck you. You don't know me so keep your pissy views on what I should do with my life to yourself. Have fun lecturing about that shrub - you seem to have done a lot with yours. Very accomplished." I snapped, my voice low with anger but still loud enough to carry to the front of the class.

Low murmurs rose as the class reacted to my harsh words. I shook my head in disgust. _Just gossip mongers looking forward to the next piece of drama to spread around without a thought of how it could hurt people._

"Was it something I said?" Ms Zoë pondered out loud quietly, too shocked to reprimand me the way she probably should have.

I slammed the door behind me, the loud smack of wood against the door frame making me feel a bit better, although only for a second before the anger came rushing back. I raked a hand through my brown locks, hand shaking as I let out a heavy breath. My trainers squeaked against the cool marble of the hallway floor as I stormed away from the classroom and towards the nearest fire exit.

"Stupid teachers. Stupid school. And me - what the hell was I thinking?" I muttered angrily to myself, glaring at the faded reflection of me that showed weakly in the floor. "This is another detention for sure. And Mom..." I snorted. _She won't give a damn. She never does._

I turned the corner quickly, slamming into a warm body and falling to the floor. _Fuck my life,_ I thought, rubbing a hand across my face before shoving myself up off the floor. My default scowl rose on my face as I looked up at the person I had knocked into. "Watch where you're going you damn idiot." I snapped, knowing that it wasn't really their fault at all even as I said it.

Brown eyes met mine, freckles dusting the face of the boy who looked at me. "I'm sorry, man. I didn't see you - but to be fair it wasn't all my fault. It takes two to turn round a corner and smash into each other." He said lightly, a smile quirking his mouth.

"Whatever." I muttered as I pushed past him, hands shoved deep into my pockets. The black haired boy looked after me as I stalked off, a quick glance over my shoulder showing his brown eyes tracking me down the hallway.

"Watch out, dude, there might be another unsuspecting passer-by around that corner. Wouldn't want you to knock them over, too!" He called after me, half joking but with annoyance dripping into his words.

 _Guess everyone's a bloody comedian today._ His voice faded behind me as I carried on walking, not looking back. But the light chocolate brown of his eyes stayed with me even after his voice stopped echoing through the corridors.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part two - Closer to home**

 **Marco's P.O.V:**

I rubbed the back of my head. "Mother of an ass monkey." I hissed quietly when I felt the beginnings of a bump under my fingertips, ruffling my hair to rub away the pain. _That guy... I wonder what his problem was. He looked seriously peeved._

Grabbing my bag off the floor, I made to walk to my first lesson when I saw a discarded black backpack lying against the grotesquely yellow lockers. _Damn it. Now I'm gonna have to find him and give him back his crap. Could this day get any worse? Not only am I the new kid, but some jerk knocks me over making me even more late and now I have to return his stuff._

I shot a look down the hallway that the boy had turned onto, only to see a distinct lack of angry brown haired guys, which made my job of returning the bag a whole lot more difficult. _Keep calm, Marco. It'll be okay. Just find the ass muncher after school and give his bag back then. He'll just have to cope without it_ , I thought with a smirk.

The bell rang shrilly through the empty hallway, heralding the sudden flood of students that burst from the classroom doors like people starved of oxygen searching for fresh air. Throwing myself back against the lockers, I clenched Rage Dude's bag against my chest tightly, unwilling to let it get trampled under the crowd.

A hand tapped my elbow and I turned my head slowly to the side, wary of being caught in the flow of people. A rather short guy with a seemingly permanent smile looked up at me, hazel eyes inquisitive. "Hey - the name's Connie." He said cockily, holding out a hand. I looked down at it. _Come on Marco, remember how to interact,_ I screamed at myself inside my head. _Take his hand and shake it, it isn't hard!_ I shook it cautiously, my confused expression fuelling his smile into a wide grin. "Nice to meet ya. Your name is?"

"Uh..." I froze. Inner Marco threw his hands up in the air, distancing himself from the socially inept mess that was me. _Name. Name - say your bloody name, Marco!_ "Marco. Marco Bodt." I stammered with a nervous smile. _Level up!_ My internal monologue added sarcastically.

"I'm Sasha Braus. Connie's girlfriend." A brown haired girl said, leaning around Connie and offering a friendly smile that relaxed me a little bit. "Sorry for the sudden greetings attack, but we saw you and I'm pretty sure you're new here, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, first day." Holding the bag tighter against my chest, I looked down at it briefly and wondered why I was using it like a security blanket.

"You have Jean's bag?" Sasha asked.

 _Jean?_ "You mean Rage Dude?" I blurted out before I though better of it. _Nice one, Marco. He's probably their friend and you called him 'Rage Dude'. Great job._

She snorted, Connie's laugh mingling with hers. Connie nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like Jean." He sniggered. "So how come you have his bag?"

"Oh, right. He kinda knocked me over, acted like a complete smeg and walked off without it. So I figure I'll give it back later - he might even apologise. I doubt it, but still - doesn't hurt to hope, right?" I looked at them with a small smile, warming to these people even though I'd only met them a few minutes ago. "Unless you guys want to give it to him, seeing as you're friends and all?" The bag dangled from its strap at the end of my fingers as I held it out to them.

Connie held his hands up, backing away. "No man, I think it'd do Jean some good to learn to apologise, so you keep it. Give me your phone a minute."

 _Is he gonna mug me? Why the schiznic does he want my phone?_ I looked at the guy. _I can take him. He's like half my size, so even if he nicks it I can just pick him up._ I reached slowly into my pocket, holding my phone in my hand. My confusion must have shown on my face because Sasha piped up. "Number swap. I like you, new kid - you seem cool. And I need some intelligent conversation; hanging around with this dolt is lowering my IQ." She said with a wink as she shoved Connie's shoulder gently.

"You're lucky I love you," He grumbled. "Not many guys would stay after this kind of abuse." After swapping numbers, I hiked Jean's bag onto my back. _Jean. Not Rage Dude,_ I reminded myself. Connie nudged Sasha. "We better go, potato girl. Class starts any minute now."

 _Crap_. I bolted down the hallways in a desperate search for my next class, tossing a quick goodbye over my shoulder. "Sorry, gotta run, guys. I can't be late again on the first day!" _Please let this day be over soon, I begged mentally as I worked my way through the crowd. First days suck._

 **Jean's P.O.V:**

 _Mother fudger._ I groaned as I realised I had left my bag at school, rubbing a hand across my face as I cursed quietly. Shoving my hands into my hoodie pockets, I walked slowly down the empty grey streets, pulling my hood up when it began to rain. The concrete slabs slowly bled into a darker colour, raindrops creating blossoming rosettes that lapped at my trainers as the downpour increased.

The normal steady blur of the noises of the city faded under the steady pattering percussion of the tiny individual specks of water falling from the overcast skies above. Only the steady tread of my trainers against the concrete reached my ears, lulling me into a rhythm.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the rain wash the heat from my cheeks and pretending, _hoping_ , that it could take away my troubles too. My hood slipped backwards, falling against my shoulders as the rain slowly flattened my hair with its cool touch, changing the light brown of my hair to a dark, spiky mess.

 _I wish... I could stay like this forever. Just me, the rain and the quiet. Without pneumonia, of course._

 _That would suck._

 _I can finally think - away from the frantic struggle of school and the noise of normal city life. It's nice. I guess this is what a home is meant to be like. A place where you can stay and think without having to worry about what other people are thinking about you._

 _Except I'm stood in the middle of the street like a creep while it rains. Just get it over with, Jean. Go home. Or at least, to the house you live in. Not that it's a home._

The familiar squat building sat in front of me, the windows looking at me like accusing eyes. A drop of rain trailed across my cheek before dropping from the tense line of my jaw. _Get in there, Jean. At least try and be a man._

I shoved the door open, dropping my keys onto the table in the hallway with a clatter. My hoodie clung to my skin so I pulled it off, bunching it tightly in my hands before quietly easing my way up the stairs and towards my room.

The familiar sour scent of alcohol drifted from down the hall and from the front room. A bitter taste rose in my mouth as I clenched my fists, closing my bedroom door firmly behind me before sinking onto my bed. I threw my sodden hoodie into the corner, pulling off my Ramones band shirt and chucking it after the hoodie.

My fingers curled in my hair, my forehead resting on my palms as I closed my eyes briefly.

"Jean?"

I tensed, my muscles going rigid as I fought my instinct to run. _Ignore it._ Grabbing new clothes from my drawers, I pulled on a black t-shirt and my old Green Day hoodie before shoving my phone and keys into its worn pockets.

"Jean?"

I lashed out, kicking my wall with a yell. The voice fell silent, relief rushing through me when it didn't rise again. _I need to get out of here. I can't... I can't do this anymore._

My door hit the wall and bounced back as I hurried along the hall, down the stairs and towards the front door.

"Jean?" She stepped out in front of me, blocking the door with her frail frame. The smell of sweat and alcohol drifted towards me, my nose crinkling with disgust as I took a step back. "I knew I heard you. Where have you been?" She rasped, bags under the eyes that used to be so blue and alive.

"At school, Mom. Where I _should_ be. Where have you been? Work?" I shook my head, looking away from her and digging my nails into my palms. "I doubt it. I'm guessing the liqueur store again. Same as always. At least you're predictable." I scoffed, despair and disgust rising in my chest and twisting together to make the bitter disappointment that was the only constant in my life.

"Jean-boy..." She reached towards me, jaundiced eyes bloodshot as she searched my face for the sympathy that she preyed on.

I pulled away. "Don't call me that!" I yelled, pain flickering in my chest as she flinched away from me. "I'm not your Jean-boy. Just like you aren't my _Mom_ anymore. You lost that right when you chose the bottle over me." My voice lowered to an angry growl, tears building in my eyes as I remembered the woman she used to be. I wiped them away angrily, shoving past the shadow of my Mom and slamming the door behind me.

 _You aren't the woman you used to be. You aren't my Mom anymore._


	3. Chapter 3

**Part three - Accidentally**

 **Marco's P.O.V:**

My phone buzzed in my pocket as I walked out of school, Rage Du- _Jean's_ bag still on my back.

 _Seriously, how hard can it be to find one guy? I guess I just have to follow the trail of victims he's no doubt left on the floor after he's run into them._ I gave a heavy sigh, slumping against the nearest group of lockers as I looked at my phone. _Sasha_.

 **Jean isn't at school he capped after Ms Zoë's lesson. Living the thug life. If you wanna give his bag to him that bad I can give you his address. PG xP**

I smirked at the initials she put at the end. It supposedly stood for potato girl, but Connie liked to tease her and say that she was too weird to be around kids without parental consent, which always ended up with him getting a gentle slap around the back of his head.

I typed back a reply, asking for Jean's address. _I'm not carrying this around for another day. What does he keep in here anyway - the bodies of his victims? It weighs a ton._ I leant back against the lockers, waiting for Sasha's reply so that I didn't start walking the wrong way.

"You're in the way." A deep voice said. I moved to the side, not looking up from my phone. "Dude. I said you're in the way. Fucking move."

"And I moved. What's the problem?" I snapped, looking up from my phone and meeting the eyes of the tall blonde guy in front of me. Pale blue eyes glared at me from either side of a large crooked nose that looked like it had been broken numerous times. _No doubt he deserved it._ I stood up to my full height, meeting his eyes levelly without flinching.

"Listen, newbie. I'm Reiner. Learn the name and some respect - I don't take well to rudeness and you're royally pissing me off, pretty boy." He growled.

 _Watch out, we've got a badass over here. "_ That's nice. Why don't you hurry along and do whatever important things you need to do, Reiner? I'm kind of busy here." I replied nonchalantly, slouching back against the lockers again. He bristled, hands clenching into fists. _Someone's got a temper,_ I noticed, subtly preparing to re-break his impressively crooked nose.

"Punks like you don't last long around here -" I cut him off as my phone buzzed, holding up a hand as I checked the screen.

 **23 Kirkland Ave. PG xP**

"Sorry, man - I gotta go. But we can carry this on next time, I can tell you had something absolutely scintillating to add to this conversation. Nice meeting you." I gave Reiner my biggest smile before slipping past him and leaving him glaring at my back.

 _Nice guy. Really._

The cool air of outside made me shrink into my jacket, and I lifted my hood up to block out the rain. _23 Kirkland Ave._

 _23 Kirkland Ave. Well, I have no clue where that is._ I pulled out my phone, calling Connie.

"Connie Springer at your service, Trost's friendliest vertically challenged guy is always happy to help." Connie quipped as he picked up the phone.

"Hey." I said, rolling my eyes at his dramatic greeting. "I need directions to Jean's. Sasha forgot I'm new here and just expected me to know where 23 Kirkland Ave is."

"Well, that's Sasha for you. She was probably thinking about food." He laughed before giving me directions to the abode of Jean. _Why are my brain processes so weird? I just called his house an abode and I wonder why other people look at me funny._

I walked along the path, hunching into my jacket to avoid the rain, which seemed to deny gravity in order to achieve its sole purpose of hitting me in the face. _I just want to go home, I didn't sign up for some bag quest of apparently epic proportions._ My trainers scuffed along the floor as I dragged my feet, cold seeping between my toes as I stepped into a puddle that was much deeper than it looked.

Muttering grumpily to myself, I stomped up the path to Jean's house, knocking firmly on the door and pulling his bag from my back. Rain dripped from my hood, sparkling drops falling through my line of vision in an extremely irritating pattern.

 _I didn't come all this way to just be ignored._ I knocked again on the door, louder this time. "Jean?" I called. "Open the door and take your bag back - I've had it all day and I'm not lugging your crap around anymore." My foot tapped impatiently on the floor, water splashing up the back of my leg due to the convenient puddle gathering around my feet.

"Jean!" I yelled. "Come on, man! This isn't funny." Movement at one of the windows drew my attention. "Jean?"

I heard the sound of a bolt unlatching on the other side of the door and let a smile come onto my face at the thought of finally being able to go home. I pulled my hood down and held his bag out at the end of my arm. "You left this at school -" My voice cut off as I realised that the person at the door definitely wasn't Jean.

"Hello?" The woman's voice quivered as she looked at me with bloodshot eyes. My nose crinkled at the thick scent of alcohol that clung to her like a second skin, but I smoothed my expression out and replaced it with a confused smile.

"I'm sorry, I was told that Jean Kirstein lives here?" I queried gently, pulling the bag back towards me and holding it to my chest.

The woman nodded, her jaundiced skin etched with lines that appeared even deeper due to the lengthening shadows of the evening. "Yes, he does - I'm his mother." She rasped, looking at me suspiciously. "What do you want with my son?"

 _Oh God, she thinks I'm a creep or something_. "He left his bag at school, that's all - I came to drop it off for him." I spoke quickly, flustered by her sharp gaze.

Her focus flitted to something over my shoulder. _What is this woman on?_ I turned to see what she was staring at only to meet the eyes of Jean - who was once again in rage mode.

 **Jean's P.O.V:**

I walked back towards my house, dreading stepping back into the walls that trapped me with her. The door came into view, and with it the sight of two figures talking on my doorstep.

 _Brown eyes? What is he doing here? Mom?_ Panic flashed in my stomach as I ran to get her away from him.

"What are you doing here?" I snarled, yanking my hood back from my head and glaring at him. _Sorry, Brown Eyes. I'm not really mad at you. But I don't want you to see the person I have to live with. I don't want you to have this to think about, too._

"Whoa, calm down, Jean." He held his hands up placating, tossing the object he had in his hands at me. I caught it as it hit my chest. _My bag?_ I looked up at him, my eyes softening before I saw her move towards me and I stiffened. "You left it at school after you ran into me, so I brought it back."

"Well now you have." I said coldly. "So in the nicest way possible, could you please leave now?" I ignored the way my chest warmed up when he said my name, looking away from his soft brown eyes.

"No need to be an ass, man. I thought I had bad social skills, but you definitely take the prize. See you at school, Jean." Marco muttered angrily before spinning on his heel and walking down the road in the rain.

My fists clenched and relaxed as I watched him leave, his black hair flattened down by the rain. _I'm sorry, Brown Eyes._ I pushed past my mother, heading straight for my room and away from the sickly scent of cigarette smoke that now hung in the air.

"Are you ashamed of me?" She asked hoarsely. I froze, not turning around. "You were unnecessarily harsh to that boy. Was it because of me?" My nails bit into the flesh of my palm, no doubt leaving small crescent shaped marks. "Jean? Jean!"

"Yes! Yes, I am! Okay? You drink, and you smoke and you sleep - ever since _he_ left, I've been the responsible one in this house. He left 10 years ago. When are you going to understand that he isn't coming back?" I snapped, meeting her eyes harshly. "I've had to look after you since I was seven. You have done _nothing_ to care for me. You drink, and smoke and sleep. That's it. And don't think I've forgotten the times you took your situation out on me. Because this scar," I pulled up my shirt to show a pale line stretching across my side, "And these memories won't let me forget." A tear fell down my cheek. "So yeah. I guess I am ashamed."

The stairs creaked under my feet as I turned and walked upstairs, leaving her behind me. I closed my bedroom door and slid down the wall to the floor, my head in my hands.

Rain pattered against the windows in a steady rhythm, covering the quiet sound of the tears that wouldn't stop.


	4. Chapter 4

**Couples**

 **Jean's P.O.V:**

I rubbed tiredly at my eyes with the heel of my palm, sinking into the rigid and if I was being honest, fucking uncomfortable, embrace of the chair at the table surrounded by the weirdos that were my friends.

"Yo, horse!" Connie greeted, lifting a hand for a high-five that wouldn't ever happen because I wasn't high, inebriated or a moron. My baleful glare clued him in on the fact that I wasn't in the best mood. "Did someone not get a good night's sleep?" He teased in an overly sympathetic voice, pouting and tilting his head in a concerned manner.

I thought back to the night before. _Let's see... A house that sure isn't a home, a 'Mom' that loves hitting the bottle more than her own child and to top it off a complete stranger seeing my wreck of a life. Yeah, that sounds like the perfect recipe for a great night's sleep,_ I thought sarcastically. Of course, I didn't say that. I never do. _Better to just gloss over my glamorous home-life._ "Whatever, Connie. Go grow some proper hair." I grumbled.

He rubbed his short haircut with a wounded expression, scowling playfully. I turned away and nodded a greeting to the rest of the table, resting my cheek on my hand. Eren tilted his chin in acknowledgment, grinning at Mikasa when she sat down heavily beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He slipped an arm around her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before slouching against the back of his chair with the hint of a smile on his face. _I'm surrounded by couples everywhere. Eren and Mikasa, Connie and Sasha, Ymir and Christa. Guess me and Armin are gonna be the bachelors of the group. Watch out ladies - Armin is on the prowl,_ I thought dryly, smirking as I looked at the blonde, who had his head buried in a book.

"Jean stop looking at me - I'm trying to read." Armin said quietly.

"Sorry dude." I said, holding my hands up. "Just wondering what _fascinating_ piece of literature's grabbed your attention on this very fine morning." Armin looked up at me, brow creasing as he detected sarcasm.

"I would tell you, but I doubt you'd have heard of it, let alone read it." His tone was calm as he looked back down at the pages, blue eyes scanning the words quickly. Connie sniggered until I looked over at him and he tried to cover it with a cough. _Yeah, you better cover that laugh. Asshole._

Eren straightened up a bit, shuffling in his chair. "Not that I don't find Armin's burn funny or anything, but isn't Sasha missing? Connie, where's the man of your relationship?" Mikasa elbowed him softly in the side, making his green eyes widen as he flinched. "What was that for?" He whined playfully, sticking his bottom lip out.

"Sasha isn't a guy." Mikasa reprimanded. "She's just being a role model for Connie - showing him how he should behave." I snorted as Connie spluttered, his face gradually flushing pink.

"Hey- This- I'm the guy in our relationship - Tell them, Christa!" Connie screeched.

The small blonde shrugged from beside Ymir. "Sorry, no can do, Connie. Try hard to get those trousers though, okay? You can do this." Her light blue eyes were serious as she patted Connie's hand softly. Ymir watched quietly - mostly watching Christa as always, but still paying partial attention to the conversation.

Rapid footsteps clattered along the floor behind me. _Oh, joy. Morning people. Who the actual fuck has the energy to run around in the mornings? And why do they have to be so damn active around me?_ "Surprise, bitches!" Small hands clamped down on my shoulders as Sasha trilled her welcome. _I should have known._ I shook my head as she continued, her bright and cheery manner a contradiction to the fact that we were in school - and that it was the goddamn _morning._ "Fear not! I have come to brighten your dreary lives with my presence - you can all thank me later, I'm sure the awe will wear off by then."

"It's worn off already, Sasha." I muttered, hissing when she flicked my ear.

Sasha tutted as I turned to scowl at her. "Now, now, Jean - is that any way to talk when I've brought a guest to meet you guys? You aren't exactly showing your good side. But that's not that unusual." She chided. _Guest? Who the fuck has she brought here this time? I swear to God, if it's that yellow-bellied Daz kid again I'm actually gonna cry._ I looked around her, craning my neck to see the mysterious visitor.

 _Aw, crap._ I swallowed nervously as I tipped my head back and met the soft brown eyes of the boy who had brought my bag to my house. _Shit._ He looked down at me with an apprehensive expression, pushing his black hair back from his face in a nervous gesture. "Hey. I'm uh - I'm Marco Bodt. Nice to meet you guys." _Marco..._ His name rolled around my head, the buzz in my ears matching the pounding of my heart as I remembered his face when I had yelled at him in the rain.

A chorus of greetings rang out from the table, Connie's customary "Yo." more subdued than usual as he muttered to himself. "I wear the pants. Me." He whispered, brow furrowed in denial. Armin kicked me under the table. My eyes tore away from Marco and flicked to the small boy. He cleared his throat, looking at Marco and then back at me. _Say hello,_ he mouthed, looking at me like I was stupid, which to be fair I was actually considering getting tested due to the amount of garbage that came out of my mouth on a regular basis.

 _What? Oh!_ "Uh... Hi." I mumbled, pushing my hands into my hoodie pockets. A quick glance at Marco's face showed a tentative smirk beginning to quirk his mouth. "Nice to meet you."

"Again." I looked up at Marco in confusion, along with the rest of the table apart from Sasha and Connie, who just grinned at each other knowingly. "Ya know, 'cus we've met before? It seems to be a regular thing." He shifted from one foot to the other, his black Vans scuffing against the floor. "Maybe we can try not to slam into each other this time." Marco gave me an awkward grin, glossing over the bag saga of the night before.

I slouched, letting out a small sigh of relief. A smirk spread across my lips. "I don't know, man - you were good landing pad. But I guess I can try." Looking into the brown of his eyes, I tried to show my gratitude in the short time that I could make eye contact without the others thinking I was some kind of perv. He smiled, a dimple dinting his cheek, so I guess he got the message.

Sasha sat down heavily next to Connie, nudging him with her shoulder and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Whoa calm with the PDA, guys. Wouldn't want the teacher's coming over here to disrupt that blatant display of affection." I joked, jerking my eyes away from Marco's.

"Whatever, Kirstein." Connie tutted, rolling his eyes. "Hey, Marco, you gonna sit down?" He asked.

"Y-Yeah, sure." Marco slid his bag from his shoulder and slung it under the table. He swallowed nervously. _What's his problem? We don't look that intimidating, do we?_ My eyes widened as I realised. _Oh. Of fucking course the only space is next to me. Damn all these couples._ I fumbled with my stuff, moving it out of the way so that he could sit next to me. _Calm the hell down, Jean,_ I told myself. _The guy is just sitting next to you, what's the damn problem?_

Marco slid into the spare seat, easing his lanky legs under the table before engaging in conversation with Connie. I fumbled nervously with the zip of my hoodie, my fingers trembling slightly in a way that was starting to piss me off. Something warm brushed my leg under the table as I scooted my chair back in, making me flinch my leg away. Marco jumped slightly, face paling as he shot me a look filled with something akin to terror. _Oh mother of God,_ I thought as my face began to heat up. _All the people on this mother fudging table and I had to brush legs with him._

I twisted my legs away from his, my lower body now resembling a pretzel as I desperately tried to avoid the limbs of the boy next to me, who had become an interesting shade of light pink that brought out his freckles. _Dude what the fuck, stop noticing his freckles!_ I screamed internally at myself. The next few minutes seemed to go by quickly, but at the same time they were torturously slow as my traitorous brain imagined the heat of his leg radiating across the gap between us. I barely participated in the conversations around me, nodding when appropriate and offering small sounds of agreement.

The soft sound of Marco's voice and his laugh hung in my ears, the attempts I made to distract myself by tapping my foot pointless and earning me a slap from Sasha, who found it "Irritating."

"Hey, Jean!" Connie waved a hand in front of my face. "Jean?" I smacked his hand away, scowling at him as I startled from my intense glare at the table. "It's time for first period, man. Get your ass up, we're gonna be late." I stood up hurriedly from the table, cringing at the sound of the chair screeching against the floor before grabbing my bag.

"Bye." I murmured, ducking my head. Marco smiled nervously at me, a blush still tinting his cheeks as he lifted a hand to wave goodbye. _I need to get out of here._

Jogging out of the cafeteria towards my first lesson, I tried to pretend that I wasn't running away from the boy behind me and the tingling in my leg where his knee had brushed mine.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part five - According to Freckles**

 **Marco's P.O.V:**

 _Feck. Fecking feck. Why is this school like a maze?_ I walked quickly through the mess of corridors, searching desperately for even the smallest sign to give me some idea of where I was. _I can't believe I got lost again. Inconceivable!_ My inner Marco added sarcastically. _Shut the hell up,_ I told myself. _Now is not the time for Princess Bride references._

"Why me?" I groaned, dragging my feet along the floor as I rubbed a hand over my face. The hall was completely empty bar me, my footsteps the only sound, the repetitive noise grating on my ears as I fought to stay calm and not rip up the supposed 'map' in my hands that was about as useful as mudguards on a tortoise.

"Marco?" A familiar voice called. I froze, my ears heating up and my face flushing as I remembered the feel of his knee against mine. _Jean._ "Is that you?". I turned slowly on my heel and gave a nervous smile, rubbing my hand awkwardly on the back of my neck as his amber eyes met my brown ones.

"Surprise." I cheered weakly. He smirked, looking at the 'map' in my hand and then back at me. "Do you happen to know where gym class is? I swear this isn't really a map because it doesn't match up to any part of the school I've seen so far."

Jean laughed. "That'd be because you're holding it upside down. 10/10 for effort though." My cheeks blazed as I fumbled with the paper until it was the right way round. _Great work, Marco. Now he thinks you're an imbecile._ He shook his head, trying to get the smile off his face. "I have that lesson, too. Come on, I'll show you where it is."

I stood dumbly where I was, watching Jean as he started walking, expecting me to follow him. My eyes tracked over his tousled two-toned brown hair, studying his confident gait as he meandered along the corridoor. _He just expects me to follow him. I mean, I'm going to, but he's kinda arrogant. Don't pretend you don't like it,_ Inner Marco whispered. Mentally beating myself, I shook my head and slowly trailed after Jean. I rubbed my thumb over the coarse fabric of my bag strap, scratching at the seam to occupy myself in the silence and studying the back of his band tee with a smile. "Dude, not that your Shinedown shirt isn't great or anything, 'cus it is, but could you slow down a little?" My foot caught on Jean's heel as he stopped abruptly, my shoulder knocking his and making him stumble forwards.

"Sorry." He stammered, whirling to stop me from falling by grabbing the collar of my shirt. "We gotta stop doing this." Jean said with his classic smirk that froze when he realised how little space there was between us. His hand pushed me back until I was set firmly on my own feet before Jean pulled away quickly like he was on fire. A pink flush rose on his cheeks, though I doubted he was as mortified as me. "It's uh - it's this way." Jean said, clearing his throat pointing to some doors down the hall. "I think you can probably get there on your own without getting lost, right?"

I nodded and nearly tripped up again in my haste to get to the doors. Jean hung back, letting me run ahead with the elegance of a one legged horse. Looking back, I watched him move over to the lockers. "Are you staying out here?" My voice cracked embarrassingly as I rose my tone so he could hear me.

"I'll be in in a minute." Jean said quickly, not making eye contact. _Just as long as he didn't notice that particular gem of a voice break._ I backed through the doors, looking away from Jean and rubbing a hand over my burning face. _And after all that, now I have the joy of gym class. What a great day,_ I thought dryly.

 **Jean's P.O.V:**

I hit my head gently against the lockers as soon as I saw Marco retreat behind the relative safety of the changing room doors. "Why. Is. This. Happening. To. Me?" I growled under my breath, each word coinciding with the impact of my forehead against cool metal. The slight chill of the lockers seeped into my cheek as I rested my face against the glaring yellow monstrosities, easing the stinging blush.

With a heavy sigh I dragged myself through the changing room doors and into the stench of the locker room. I changed quickly, ignoring Connie who bounced over like an over excitable puppy. "'Sup Jean?" He welcomed. I grunted noncommittally. "Watch out, gentlemen - we have a real academic here. HIs literary knowledge will literally shock you speechless." Connie smarted, earning a dubious look from Armin.

"I doubt that." The blonde muttered, widening his eyes innocently when I swung my gaze over to. "What?" Armin asked lightly, giving me an angelic smile.

Narrowing my eyes playfully, I glared at the boy, who just shrugged it off. "Whatever, punk." I sauntered towards the gym, grinning to myself when I saw Armin puff his chest up with pride at being called a punk. _Strange kid._ My trainers squeaked against the wooden floor of the gym as I walked across the open space to where the rest of the class was assembled. I stopped next to Eren, who flicked his eyes over to me and nodded a greeting.

Mr Pixis, the old and probably inebriated coach, sat up from his semi-permanent sleep at the corner that we had dubbed the Slumber Spot due to the fact that he passed out there most lessons, meaning that we could laze around instead of actually exercising. Rubbing his moustache, the old guy blinked slowly at us until we came into focus. I turned my head to stop the snigger aching in my chest when he did a double take at Armin's delicate features as if checking that he was actually a boy. "Guess what kids?" Pixis slurred. "Today you guys are gonna do some boxing. Jean, Eren - you boys have experience. Tutor the rest." He turned away, shuffling back to his chair.

Eren frowned. "Excuse me, Sir, but I don't think that's a wise decision."

"Why? Aren't you and Kirschtein up to the task?"

Eren's green eyes flashed, getting angry at the apparent challenge. "No Sir, I'm sure we are. It's just that without a qualified instructor it's not exactly legal." He fought to keep his tone calm, but the annoyance he felt slipped through, tightening his words.

"Well, it's a good thing I'm here then." Pixis said slowly, taking his time and drawing out the words as if to annoy Eren further. "I used to be an instructor, back in the day. Still keep the old licence topped up." He smiled before sitting down heavily in his chair, picking up the newspaper he kept folded on the seat. "Pixis likes boxing." I heard him murmur.

Sighing heavily, I motioned to the gloves in the corner of the hall. "Knock yourselves out. But not literally. I meant go get some gloves. Never mind." _This is going to suck._

"Nice one, Jean." Armin sassed quietly as he walked past. "The 'literary genius' strikes again."

"Get some damn gloves, Arlert!" I barked. He rolled his eyes, grinning at Connie. _How am I gonna cope with these idiots? Dear God, what if they start fighting like two little girls?_ I shuddered as I imagined Armin and Connie rolling around on the floor screaming and pulling at each others hair. _To be fair though, Connie would have the advantage because he doesn't have much hair to pull. Would I have to pick a side? Would it be wrong to bet on a winner? Is it wrong that I can actually imagine them doing this? Probably._

Strapping on the gloves Eren tossed to me, I flexed my fingers, carefully watching over the people cautiously drilling the sequence that the brunette had demonstrated. The sound of feet scuffing across the wooden floor as partners moved through the pattern soothed me, reminding me of the days that I spent drilling in their place. I leant back against the wall, arms folded across my chest while I watched lazily. Eren moved between the groups of students, offering words of advice and correcting techniques as he went. _Seems like he's got it covered._

"Mind running through those with me?" A smooth voice asked. I turned to meet the happy brown eyes of the boy standing in front of me, his black hair tousled across his forehead.

Swallowing nervously, I nodded. "Sure. Why not? " Pushing off the wall, I moved over to a space with Marco trailing behind me before settling into a relaxed stance with my hands held near my chin. He smiled nervously before mirroring me, a hint of a dimple showing in one of his cheeks. "Okay - you go first."

He tapped lightly at my gloves with his, jabbing gently before switching to a right hook that I blocked easily due to the lack of force behind the blow. My eyes rolled reflexively, getting annoyed at the lack of force he applied in his attacks. I studied him covertly as we ran through the routine, noticing the smattering of freckles that dusted his nose and brought out the golden flecks in his eyes, which were narrowed slightly with concentration. Even though he wasn't smiling, a brief hint of his dimples still dinted the olive tone of his cheeks. _I wonder what they look like when he smiles fully,_ I thought suddenly. _Wait, where did that come from? This has to stop._

"Dude, come on, put some effort into it." I snapped, trying to distract myself. Marco narrowed his eyes at me and opened his mouth to argue, showing a flash of white teeth that I definitely didn't notice, but I shot a quick jab at his face that he had to jump backwards to avoid. Irritation darkened his eyes when he scowled, raising his hands to his jaw and ducking in close to me.

I dodged a left, then a right, my eyes widening slightly as I realised how fast the guy really was. Backing up quickly, I blocked a flurry of blows that Marco aimed right at my face. _Looks like someone's taking this personally._

I heard Connie snigger from somewhere in the hall but couldn't turn to glare at him because Marco was taking every piece of my attention. "You got your hands full there, Jean?" he called as I pushed Marco back with an uppercut that connected with his jaw harder than I meant it to. _Crap._

"Shut the hell up and go back to slapping Armin like the little girl you are." I snapped over my shoulder before turning back to Marco, my stomach churning with remorse. "Marco, man, I'm sorry I thought you were gonna block -" I saw a blur before a foot slammed into my stomach, the brief second of warning enough for me to tighten my stomach slightly. Staggering backwards, I held my stomach to soothe the dull, throbbing ache before looking up.

Marco smirked at me, wiping blood from a cut in his lip away with an un-gloved hand. "Sorry, Jean. I thought you were gonna block, too." He echoed my words, smiling sweetly in a way that twisted my stomach (though I wasn't sure if it was his smile or the pain from the impact of his foot), before turning away. I coughed, air pushing its way back into my lungs.

Annoyance at myself heated my cheeks. _I should have noticed he was going to kick me. All those years spent training just to underestimate a guy just because I like his eyes._

"Marco? Where did you learn that?" I called hoarsely after him.

Turning to me while walking backwards towards the locker rooms, the black-haired boy laughed. "MMA team."

Confusion wrinkled my brow. "How come I never saw you at competitions?"

"I'm not from round here, idiot." Marco turned back around in time to slam into the doorframe of the locker room. "Fudge!" He hissed quietly. Looking back up at me, he blanched when he saw that I had seen his little accident with the door. "Later, Jean!" I watched silently as he ducked around the door and walked off, leaving me scratching the back of my neck awkwardly and trying to rationalise the churning of my stomach.

 _It's just from the kick. Definitely. Yeah, that's what it is._


End file.
